The Place of the Fire Lord
by me38242
Summary: Katara realizes that the traditions of the Fire Nation are actually very erotic. Even if it just is for symbolism. Zuko/Katara wedding. Lemon Ch.4.
1. First

**Chapter One: History**

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><p>Red embroidery pinned with 48-karat gold sleeves fled down the legs of Zuko in two, long, wide strips.<p>

Newly crowned Fire Lord Zuko was getting married. In fact, he had already gotten married—he mulled over the hidden question for a second before deciding to let it flit away. Who know when it was officially done anyhow?

The long, flowing red robes draped over him led way to two golden doors, embellished with grand blue to signify the housing of the royal bride—Katara of the Water Tribe.

Slightly weary, but feeling something like a small mandarin down in the bottom of his throat, Zuko opened the door after having made his official speech as _Fire Lord_ in front of an audience of onwatchers.

After he and Katara had gone of the nuptials—the godforsaken ceremonial monument of thing called a _hair piece_ staged over her head—which had also thoroughly taken a good 7 hours (yes, _seven hours_, to go through all the proceedings), the crowds had respectfully cheered for them and a blushing Katara had been led away by her assigned maidens, as Zuko had been left in the wide ceremonial stage to turn and make his speech towards the audience.

Yes, Katara had gone away as he had gone off to do his duties as Fire Lord.

Zuko heaved a weary sigh. _Seven hours_. The morning ceremony had taken _seven hours_, and had started at seven in the morning.

It was already two.

Having just finished addressing his audience, Zuko had turned around, assumed to be obliged to look for his newly wedded wife now.

Of course, there were more ceremonial habits awaiting for them, but those were at the back of his mind.

At the moment, all he wanted to do was find Katara—if anything, just for a moment of peace, away from all this ceremonial bullshittery nonsense.

Those seven hours had been long and excruciating, outfitted in regality resembling the royal olden ages, among fire sages spinning around them. Just _learning_ the proper methods of going about the ceremony had been hard enough, and even then, they had both cheated—Iroh had made sure there would be guides secretly signaling each of them and showing them what to do, hidden behind the curtains.

The old man had chuckled and explained that that was an age long tradition and that he and his wife had had a guide for their ceremonial depart at their wedding as well, when Zuko had looked up to his Uncle hopeless and distraught after coming back from his first meeting with the wedding coordinators.

At that meeting, he had also learned a few more things that he would have to keep in mind for later that day.

It had fled his mind; completely caught up with the overwhelming amount of nuptials as had been stressing over, until just now.

Where Zuko had been flusturedly and hurriedly looking for his wife—just for some company—he opened the door and was struck with the beautiful, but at the same time _horrifying_ visage of a gorgeous and glowing Katara.

Make-up applied to perfection, eyebrows shaped and arched perfectly, her face glowed with a rosy pink that was perfect the complement her features, and her tan skin was brought out to it's exotic and sultaneous glory with the thin line of deep black kohl rimming them.

Zuko was thunderstruck by the visage of Katara, who was sitting with her legs bent below on lines her, on the steps of some sort of special, important, ceremonial looking alter.

He had found the door she had been hiding in after being directed by some ministraries. But only had he entered it, did he realize with a gulp that he should indeed be horrified and nervous.

Katara seemed to have taken off the outer layer of robes to reveal another set of gallant looking wedding attire of a slightly more relaxed disposition, and her headpiece was off. The veil was removed, so Zuko could finally see her face now and reel back properly at the amazing job her team of maidens had done to her.

"Zuko!" Katara exclaimed with relief once the door opened. "Oh my spirits, I finally got that awful thing off!" she expressed, "and they even took off the silly outer-robe. I've still got two more under neath this but—"

As Katara went on and on in enthusiasm and relief about how she actually felt normal now, Zuko took another deep breath. He half-heartedly listened to her, but then took another tumultuous glance up at the large alter above them, the steps of which Katara was currently sitting on, exclaiming and rubbing her now bare feet in relief.

It took her a moment to realize that he still had not moved from where he stood and then she quickly came over to him with questioning written all over her face.

"Zuko? Are you alright? Do you need any help getting all that gunk off," she asked, grimacing her face as she pointed towards his _own_ ceremonial outerrobes.

He had just come from addressing their morning (or noon) audience after their weddings, so he was still outfitted in the long, flowing red robes.

Zuko choked a bit, glancing at the dreaded altar out of the corner of his eye before taking another deep sigh and looking up.

"Katara... haven't you noticed..." he thought it might be better to start it off gently. "That it's weird that we're left alone after all that?" He took another deep breath. Waiting for it.

She might be his wife now, but that didn't change the tremor of how much reverence he had for her.

He _was_ scared of her.

In fact, this well known reverence was the main—no, the _exact—_reason the Fire Sages and explicitly approved, chosen and qualified her for the wedding. Her, Katara of the Southern Water Tribe.

Katara, with both her hands on one side of his broad shoulders—made even broader with the extravagant red, shimmering ceremonial outer robes of the wedding—paused suddenly in her attempts to help him remove it from his chest.

Zuko took another deep breath, closing his eyes, gearing himself for that moment.

Katara frowned suddenly and seriously, stilling and notably tensing to take attendance of her background and surrounding.

"Another assassination attempt?" she whispered suddenly, her eyes narrowed with suspicion as her pupils slid off to the side. Her body hadn't moved from the position it was in when Zuko had first halted her with his sudden speech.

Mentally, the man in question groaned.

No, she did _not_ get it.

With a gruff choke in the back of his throat, Zuko took both of her hands in his and hurriedly looked around the wide, vast room, which was only a bit tinier than the history-old throne room in the centre building.

He spotted a large, spansive bed in the corner and brought her over to it.

Sitting down cross legged on it, he gestured for her to do the same and then took her hands in his hand once in, gently running over her fingers with his own as he began to speak.

He didn't know how else to do it—tell her a story? Remind her of the age old tale and truths that had only just restruck his memory four months ago when his personal advisors for the wedding had made it known to him?

Indeed, he was not surprised that this small facet or tale had been personally overlooked by him despite the fact that he himself had grown up within the walls of the main palace.

After all, it had been years since the true meaning behind it had come to any fruition.

It all made sense—their history of Fire Lords. The Fire Sages' decision to choose and pick Katara (Zuko had just thought he had gotten lucky), as a Fire Lady.

He and Katara had already been in a relationship when they had been propositioned by the Fire Sages for a wedding. They had explicitly said that they approved of Katara and graced her with their good blesses.

Zuko had thought it was a dream come true. He had been severely putting off confronting the idea of having to approach the Sages for approval and wisdom when it came to picking a water tribe wife—mostly because he had been dreading trying to convince them that a water tribe bride would be perfect for him.

But they had thrown him the proposition and the wedding preparations had begun five months ago.

That was also when he found out _why_.

Choking a little bit before in his throat before beginning, Zuko continued playing with her hands trapped within his own, looking down to stare at them to avoid her face before beginning his story.

"In the Fire Nation... the Fire Lady is the mother to everyone," he began slowly and subtly, and using the direct phrasing the sages had told him with.

Katara nodded, slowly and attentively, her ears still out and open for any note of an assassin stranger—which she still perceived to be the purpose of their seclusion in this room.

Realizing the devastating shock that he had had when he had become privy to the piece of information he was about to disclose to Katara, he mentally smacked his head and decided that maybe he _shouldn't_ use the phrasing the sages had used. He didn't want to give her the same shock that he had received.

"So, um," Zuko awkwardly choked out once again, still refusing to look her in the face.

"Wait," Katara suddenly stopped. Zuko breathed a hidden breath of relief at the sudden break from the torturous moment, but then looked up to see her eyes still narrowed and sneaking suspicious glances around the room as she slowly rose up onto her knees on the mattress.

"Let me help you take off your over-coat first, husband," Katara tensely and artificially stated, her hands moving forward towards his chest, though her gaze was searching the premises.

Following her line of sight and looking around bewilderedly around the room for whatever she was looking for, the realization suddenly struck Zuko and he snapped his face back up to hers.

"No, Katara—theres no assassination attempt planned—I'm explaining to you right now why we're here."

Suddenly relaxing and then returning her hands back to herself, Katara sat back on the bed on her haunches and now looked at him visibly confused.

"Oh. Well—Okay. But let me still help you take that thing off."

Zuko grunted an affirmative and allowed Katara to move up off the bed to around his back to lift the heavy garments up. Below, he was still wearing two or three layers, but he felt a lot more relaxed now.

Once Katara was done, she placed herself in front of him on the bed once again, facing each other with their legs crossed and laps between them once again.

Watching Zuko take her fingers back into his lap to fiddle with them again and visibly delay, Katara blew a deep, annoyed sigh.

Sure, she had gotten that irritating headdress off, and the veil was off too, but she was still wearing three or four layers of heavy and uncomfortable underclothes and robes.

She was getting hot and sweaty and Zuko was sitting here, stalling and fiddling and delaying with whatever he meant to tell her right now.

Her brow began to twitch in annoyance.

She lifted one hand away from his fiddling fingers and brought it up to the neck of her robes to pull the inside out a bit looser. This dress was getting annoying.

And for some reason, her chest was feeling a lot tighter than it was before—particular around the bust area. Which was weird, considering that she could recall that her dressing maidens had purposefully fitted them looser around her chest this morning.

And now, suddenly, it was feeling too tight for her to breath in. Her chest—_breasts—_felt _really _heavy. Like there were stones hanging down from there.

And Zuko was sitting here, being all indecisive and irritating.

As the hand suddenly left from his lap, Zuko looked up in surprise to see her pull at her inner robes to try and get some cool air into her chest.

Katara groaned suddenly in frustration, before speaking out her irritation to him.

"Ugh. I don't know why, but—my chest feels really heavy and tight. What were you going to tell me?"

Zuko's blank gaze fell from the finger at her neck down to her breasts, before he blushed crimson red and snatched his hand from between them back to lap.

He took a deep inhale through his nose.

He could do this. He was Fire Lord. Of course he could do this. He'd been through enough in his life—this should be nothing in comparison.

_Then why was it so embarrassing_? An inner voice screamed at himself.

Zuko cleared his throat.

"The Fire Nation... We do not follow a misogynistic culture," Zuko decided to suddenly start off diplomatically. Satisfied that Zuko had begun his speaking once again, Katara hummed in approval and understanding and gestured for him to continue, still uncomfortably tugging at her upper robes.

"The Fire Lady, as it goes by the books, is actually more powerful than the Fire Lord. She is the mother of the nation, and as an extension, the mother of the Fire Lord himself as well."

Katara hummed once again in understanding. "Yes, well, that makes sense of course. The Fire Lady always gives birth to the future Fire Lord."

Zuko quirked his mouth in disapproval at the finite phrasing of her words—they were true, yes, technically. If all went as expected it would be true.

But Princess Ursa had not been a Fire Lady when she had given birth to Zuko. In fact, she was never meant to be a Fire Lady at all, having married the second son of the currently reigning Lord.

But he pushed those facts to the back of his head—they interrelated with his discussion anyway.

"Yes. So, in effect, she has more power than him," Zuko continued, before deciding to explain another aspect on a tangent. "The ascension of Fire Lords is completely separate from that of Fire Ladies. They should, in effect, be interrelated—through marriage and by birth—but the ascension is completely separate."

"What I mean to say," Zuko clarified, clearing his throat, "That if my mother were alive today, she would be the current Fire Lady in ruling. She would, in effect, have more power over me," Zuko frowned, tracing his index finger over hers, before continuing, "All of my decisions would be watched by her. And if, by some reason, she disapproved of any of my actions, she would have the correct jurisdiction to condemn and obliterate any axioms made of my volition, veto my laws, and change any word of mouth that begets heralding from me." Zuko paused, letting that sink in for a second. "Most of the time, the lock of fire sages, federation of nobles, coalition of provincial lords, and council of five can veto any laws made by me after a 2/3s vote of agreement on any of their parts. But the Fire Lady does not need a council to veto my laws—only her own will. She is also the only such person in the entire nation who can do the last of those powers—change my word of mouth."

Brows furrowed, Katara frowned and listened carefully. She had skimmed over all of this in the texts given to her—she and Zuko had insisted that she did not a tutor, but could study from the textbooks herself. But once it came from Zuko's mouth, it all seemed a lot more.. powerful, somehow. A lot more real, coming from the Fire Lord himself.

"Once the current Fire Lady passes away, the ascension goes down to the wife of the current Fire Lord, or if she is deceased, to the sister or daughter or the last Fire Lord. Though it may seem as if the Fire Lady's seat follows that of the Fire Lord, it actually does not. The Fire Lady is known to be the mother of her people." Zuko took a deep breath before saying the next tumultuous sentence.

"Our nation has not had a Fire Lady in 108 years, Katara."

Somehow, the statement made Katara suck in her breath and nearly gasp. Zuko was still playing with her fingers in his lap. He waited for a response.

"But, your—"

"My mother was never a Fire Lady," he responded before she could finish. He paused a moment more before continuing. "Ozai did away with her before she could be."

A silent moment passed between them as Zuko allowed the information to sink in.

"Power," he stated. "It was always about power. When Lord Sozin's wife passed away at the age of 68, was when he began planning. The three months after her passing witnessed the duel between the Avatar Roku and Sozin between the start of the war. Five years later, the war had officially begun."

"So..." Katara slowly started, "You guys have not had a Fire Lady in the last 108 years because... because the Fire Lords felt it threatened their aims and desires?"

"Yes. The Fire Lady has more power than the Fire Lord does. Haven't you noticed the deities and spirits worshiped in the Fire Nation? The Painted Spirit, Jhall, they're mostly all women. The Fire Lady is the only person who can truly control the throne."

Zuko took a deep breath, stretching his fingers out in his lap. He hadn't looked up to her at all throughout the course of this conversation.

He glanced up for a moment and saw that her upperbody looked incredibly uncomfortable. She was sweating with discomfort.

"Well. That was enlightening—but thats the only reason we're here in this room? Spirits, Zuko, you could've told me this over dinner or something."

Zuko shook his head quietly, looking down into his lap, eyes closed.

"Wait—don't tell me this is supposed to be our wedding night pallet? The sun is still out! It's only three!"

Zuko shook his head again, his eyes almost feeling pained.

"This.. this isn't actually a wedding ritual. Well it is, sort of—" Zuko amended quickly, straightening up and suddenly frowning. There were too many strange exception to their situation. "This is actually.. a Fire Lady ritual."

Katara perked up at hearing this and took her fingers away from her neckline—where she was uncomfortable tugging to get more air.

It just sense that Zuko hadn't known about this ritual while growing up—it hadn't been performed in ages. The last Fire Lady on the throne had been 108 years ago.

Zuko cleared his throat and coughed into his fist once again, removing her hands from his palms and looking away.

"So... the Fire Lady is the mother of the nation. She's also mother to the Fire Lord."

Katara sat there, blinking at her husband, who was currently looking away, awkwardly. She waited for him to continue, but apparently there was no more to be said.

Her clothing was itching against her chest and her shoulders felt like they had extra weight on them. So she was not in the mood for patience. She had just spent seven hours kneeling and kowtowing and dancing around, taking instruction from a white-linen clad guy hiding behind a curtain, who was telling her what to do so that she wouldn't mess up.

Katara cleared her throat loudly and expressionfully, indicating the _need_ for him to continue and elaborate. The hairs on the nape of Zuko's neck sprang up. His face reddened.

"Shes.. shes the mother of the nation. The Fire Lord is the leader of the nation. So... whenever a new Fire Lady is initiated they have this... This ritual..."

"Yes?"

"Uhm. So—we—"

"We...?"

"Well, we—uh—we have to.. Uhh.."

"Zuko!" Katara finally snapped in irritation.

"Katara. So. Uh." He glanced down to her breasts uncomfortably. Surely, he shouldn't be feeling _so_ uncomfortable with his future wife, right? His _current_ wife.

They had had their fair share of making out. He had even felt her up before.

But.. But right now.. They just.. They looked _so huge._

"I—I'm supposed to," He raised his hands and gestured towards her. "Your—your chest."

Katara frowned and then brought her arms to them. "Yeah, they've been feeling weird for a while now."

"They gave you.. something weird to eat before the wedding this morning and at dinner last night, didn't they?" Zuko subtly alluded, looking away from her.

Katara frowned again, thinking back, and then realized that she did have a separate plate that was distinctly different from the others and that which no one else at the table had.

And today, as her dressing maidens had been outfitting her and slipping bits and pieces of breakfast fruit tarts into her mouth as she'd been spinning around for them and their pinning, she _had_ had some type of strange pill sitting ontop of one of her fruitcakes.

"Wait.. Yes!" she suddenly exclaimed in realization. Zuko nodded in acknowledgment, his adam's apple bobbing.

"In historical accords... The Fire Lord is meant to—I mean, consume the breast milk of the initiated Fire Lady."

Katara blinked. Slowly, her blank gaze dropped down from his flushed face down to her breasts—which were considerably larger than she'd ever seen them.

And then, another thought suddenly struck her.

Zuko was still faced off to the side, awkwardly pretending to cough into his hand. Hoping Katara wouldn't beat him or anything. They _had_, in effect, drugged her without her knowing..

But instead, he was faced with a more disturbing question. A direct product of her curious and inquisitive mind. Damnable thing.

"So.. If your mother.."

Zuko choked for real, saliva caught in his wind pipe, and began coughing uncontrollably.

Alarmed at the sudden onslaught, Katara leaned over closer to him and began to pat his back. Hunched over as he was, her enlarged breasts caught his view frontly and his cheeks burned a bright red.

"Yes. Well... the ritual generally converges with.. the ejaculation of the Fire Lord. The idea is that the breast milk consumed passes through and releases through him. It signifies a union."

Katara thought that there were many anatomical misanalogies involved here.. but it _was_ a centuries old ritual. They couldn't expect everything to be _right_.

These things were followed for symbolism at the present day. Not for technological sincerity.

So... that explained her breasts. But there was another question in her head.

And Zuko, hunched over with his elbows slung tiredly over his knees on the bed with a red face, glanced over at Katara's curious and questioning face knowing exactly what it was that she wanted to know. He heaved another sigh.

"Yes. There have been histories of incest in Fire Nation Royal families. Between the Fire Lord and the Fire Lady—but within the _context_ of the situation," Zuko felt compelled to clarify the point at the end, lest to beg another _so thats why your family is so fucked up_ comments that the Gaang seemed to loved to gesticulate about.

As far as he knew, the incest in their family's history had never produced any actual children, though it did expand further than just the context of ritual.

"And its.. Its not always sex. Sometimes they just drank it in a ceremonial cup. Its the idea of returning whats already been through the body of the Fire Lord. The milk came from the Fire Lady first though. And that symbolizes her higher status—the root of the nation. The mother of the Fire Lord. During the 100 years war, the Fire Lords all disposed of their wives so that they wouldn't stand in the way of ultimate power."

Zuko frowned as another thought suddenly came to him.

"I guess... I guess thats why my mother... She kept me close. She didn't want to be usurped if I were ever to gain hold of the throne," he felt his eyes fill with red rage. "But Ozai got to it first."

It all made sense now. The Fire Nation had not had a Fire Lady in 108 years—histories of Fire Ladies—mothers and wives—falling mysteriously ill.

At the hands of their sons, their husbands, their fathers.

In his distant memory, he recalled hearing that Iroh and Ozai had once had a baby sister—one that Azulon had never grieved, for she had died at her infancy.

Katara watched his realization come to fruition and the bile creep up his throat as the explicit realities of the situation plunged into his brain.

She leaned over and moved over on the bed to sit beside him rather than face him, placing a comforting hand over his hunched back. He was going through an intense moment of regret, anger and confusion.

"Zuko," she whispered into his ears, struggling to get rid of the bad thoughts in his head. "This is a new era, now. You've been through it all, but now we're restarting. Everything is beginning anew. I'm the new Fire Lady."

Eyes red with grief, Katara's gentle warmth and reassuring words seeping into him, he caught her back against him and hugged her waist to his chest.

He took a deep breath, making sure he was calm before letting her go.

_This—_this was why they had picked her. The Fire Sages knew that Fire Lady Katara could never be usurped by Fire Lord Zuko. They saw his reverence of her. They knew he could never do so.

_That's_ why they had picked her.

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><p><strong>AN: Next chapter, lotsa smut. Now that the boring stuff is over ;)**

Review if you'd like to see it!


	2. Second

**Chapter 2:**

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><p>Katara and Zuko had made out before.<p>

They'd made out, kissed, and touched each other. (Yes, he'd felt her up).

But that did, by no means, mean that he was ready for _this_.

He had yet to see his girlfriend (now his wife) naked. So he was not ready for _this_.

Suddenly he had been thrust into the position, that high responsibility condemns, of having to... to _perform_ a sacred ritual, which involved nudity.

He hadn't even seen her naked yet!

Of course, Zuko had expected nudity on his wedding night (he'd been looking quite forward to it, in fact—what horny 19 year old guy wouldn't?)

But, somehow, he'd expected the nudity to be a bit more... casual. Gradual. Sensual. Loving.

_Not_ an awkward performance of a century-old ritual that Katara had had yet to learn whereabouts of until five minutes prior to having to _perform_ it.

Being a Fire Lord was a busy and time-consuming job—it took over his whole life. And being his topmost advisor, Katara knew this. She, too, was busy up to her knees in paper on most hours of the day.

It was hard to pursue a relationship when both were so busy all the time.

So, Fire Lord Zuko had only gotten to second base. The most he'd done was feel her up.

Though Zuko and Katara were romantically interested in one another, this in no way meant that they had had the time to actually get past early stages of the relationship.

They were just lucky the Fire Sages had called them up at this time for marriage. At least now they had every reason and whereabout to actually _have_ a relationship.

Didn't change the fact though, that the Fire Lord was still 19 years old, sitting cross-legged and face to face across from a pretty 18-year-old girl.

Who he was supposed to breastfeed from.

She seemed to be taking it very well—the fact that they'd have to do this. But he hadn't tackled the _other_ part of the ceremony yet. Which was all his responsibility, of course.

But after living in a ship full of men for three years of his life, during the most crucial years of adolescence, Zuko was a pretty shy guy when it came down to it.

But, he thought he'd go about it with the diplomacy of a Fire Lord.

Katara had taught him this herself: never act as if anything is wrong, bluff your way through all the way, act if you know whats going on.

He'd take Katara's words to heart (he had gotten pretty good at practicing her advice anyhow, such was the life of a very young Fire Lord), and act as if nothing was wrong.

"Katara, you can.. get yourself ready over there," he said, pointing a crook behind a corner of the vast room. He was hazarding a guess, but if this room was a replica of the throne room, there would be a small chamber off to the side.

Katara could be there, while he... While he... did _that_ part of the ritual.

Katara cleared her throat, also taking on that diplomatic farce—they both understood how awkward the situation that was suddenly thrust upon them was—and nodded deftly.

Zuko breathed a deep sigh of relief that she hadn't questioned him further as she got up off the bed and wandered her way to the area he'd pointed towards. It was probably because the situation was so uncomfortable, that she didn't question anything further. Because heaven knew that Katara questioned _everything_.

The truth of the matter was that he'd have to cum into a small ceremonial silver pot—to supposedly clear his passageways of anything un-pure before taking in her breastmilk. And he didn't want to do this in front of Katara.

A century later, the idea that it was necessary so that the fluid of intake could properly find itself in his ejaculation fluid later, came as unbelievably silly to each and any proper scientist. But the Fire Sages were not scientists and would probably sneak an inquisitive glance later to see whether or not it had been done properly. So he hadto do it anyway.

Eyes closed, Zuko took another deep tumultuous breath, looking down at that alter full of ceremonial whatnots and bowls after walking towards the alter.

He saw the only silver one—which the fire sages had told him to do it in—and glanced down into it.

He closed his eyes once again and brought up an image of Katara with her robes astrew.

As modern as he was, Zuko had still been raised in the Fire Palace of archaic wisdom and kimono-attired women. And although he could appreciate the finer nuances of modern-day women's wear, he treasured his pre-adolescent fetish of kimonos.

Perhaps it was because before he had begun his voyage at the tender age of 14, the vast majority of the women he had been exposed to had been dressed in such a way. And it was not until he was 17 and officially disowned by the Fire Lord, that he had met women in the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes and even the Fire Nation who did not wear kimonos.

So although he could appreciate the women's wear of today, he would always keep a sliver of a secret attraction to the visage of an undressed kimono.

He imagined Katara, a kimono falling apart from her chest—revealing her shoulders, the gentle sweep of her collarbones, her face a flushed pink in ecstasy, her eyes closed and sighing.

His own ceremonial underclothes were suddenly beginning to feel a bit hot for him, so standing over the hallway in the alter, he loosened the first to layers and dropped them to the floor so that he was left in the plain back calf-length pants he usually wore underneath his robes.

He closed his eyes tight and focused on the image he'd called up.

He dared to imagine her hands pushing the robes apart farther, revealing the gentle swell of her tanned breast. And then she'd stopped and lift her knees up instead.

Zuko lifted his left arm so his left forearm could lean against the silver stone pillar inside the small house of an alter. He stationed himself right above the cool stone silver bowl rising up from the floor.

As his fantasies started getting the best of him, he hurriedly pushed down his pants and loincloths and, clenching his jaw, he began to stroke it dearly.

He pushed his face deep into his raised forearm, eyes closed, as he stroked and caressed his penis with his other hand over the bowl.

A low groan ejaculated from his mouth and he suddenly began to shudder. As his strokes grew faster and more hurried and rushed, white cum flew from his penis-head steadily, coating his fingers and palms as he continued stroking it.

Unbeknownst to him, Katara watched on from afar in morbid fascination.

The shudder wracking throughout her husband's entire body, his shoulders shaking, let it known to her that he was going through an intense moment.

But... but all that white fluid—the sperm—there was _so_ much of it coming from him!

Even as he kept on stroking, it continued flowing out.

He was pouring it out onto that silver bowl stationed on the floor right in front of him, and then she realized that Zuko had wanted some privacy when he had silently pointed out the existence of that room.

But Katara's breasts were aching—full of milk—and she wasn't in the mood to sit still quietly.

What was there to "get ready for" anyhow?

So she had come, wandering out, only to be graced with the presence of her handsome husband, leaning over a ceremonial cup and against a pillar, stroking himself.

When he had finished—the fluid _finally_ stopped—he lifted himself up off the pillar and removed his forearm from it. His eyes looking a bit dazed and his face a bit red, he still was unaware of Katara sitting off to the side of the bed, and looked down around him to gather up his robes and replace them on his skin and body.

He quickly shoved them all, leaving all but the topmost layer that he had been wearing on the bed.

He knew for a fact of reason that the number of robes worn during an sacred Fire Ritual event (such as a wedding) had only to do with the number of ceremonial proceedings that should occur.

He had on one extra robe than Katara. For this one.

The heavy outer robe had been for the wedding ceremony. The one after it had been shed by him right now, as he had been done performing this task.

He had three layers left on him. The first ontop with which to perform the milking segment. The second to bring with him to the wedding dinner. And the last of which for the final segment of the Fire Lady's ritual.

Zuko redressed himself, putting back on all but the first robe he had initially shed, and turned to the bed to see Katara already sitting there.

His good cheek tinged pink as he realized she might have been watching him for the latter part of the ceremony.

But then he realized that this was bad enough—and she _knew_ it—so whatever.

Taking in another deep breath, he walked over to the bed again, pulling his shoulders back to feign confidence the way Katara had always told him to.

He tried to ignore the twinkling shine of amusement in Katara's eyes; he had taken off one part of his robes, so she _knew_ this had been a ritual.

She was only laughing because he had tried to hide it from her out of shyness. So despite his best efforts to quell it, his face grew with heat once again.

He cleared his throat again.

"So.. Um." He wasn't sure how to go about getting on with another part of the ceremony...

Katara, as sensible as she always was and realizing the point he was about to go on and make, brought down the remaining three layers of her robes down.

And Zuko couldn't take her eyes off of her as she did so. She was dressed in several layers of traditional kimono outfitting.

His main fantasy was coming true right in front of his eyes. He had to remember to close his mouth, which had fallen slightly in his wonder.

"So. Um," he repeated in a noticeably higher pitched voice now.

Katara was a beautiful 18-year-old girl. He knew it. Haru knew it. Sokka knew it. Her dad knew it.

Every male with testosterone would probably be able to recognize it.

She was thin, lithe, with luxuriously soft skin, delicate features, and a soft-rounded nose.

And now her breasts were huge. They had always been the perfect size for her—he had obviously noticed, as would any other guy—but now they were _large_, accentuated a small waist.

So, he, like any other guy would be, was turned on.

After a long moment of just staring at her exposed breasts he looked up to her face in surprise.

"Zuko, I've helped birth babies. Animal babies and people babies. I don't know if you know that when the child does not feed well, the mothers suffer," Katara ground out. It was not exactly fun admitting to the fact that her breasts were downright aching from weight and tension, "Because it's actually quite uncomfortable when the milk just stays there."

Blinking fast a few more times, trying to clear out the post-coital haze from his mind as well as his new raging hard-on, Zuko jumped up once her words finally registered.

_She_ was annoyed because her breasts were _hurting. _

And there was one way to get it to stop hurting and that was precisely _him_.

Panicked with surprise, Zuko hurriedly sat back down on the bed from his standing position and faced her, his brows furrowed and both worry and panic.

"Wait, I'm sorry—"

Katara sighed, rolling her eyes. He had stood there for a good 4 minutes just staring at them.

"Okay, well then.."

Zuko bit his lip and looked back down to her tits. He gulped deeply.

He had no opposition to doing this. But.. the fact that she might mind?

But.. but she was obviously uncaring about that aspect... So he might as well go with it... Right?

He took a deep breath and lent forward, capturing a nipple into his mouth.

Katara, as annoyed as she was, hadn't expected that so suddenly and had to bite her lip suddenly to overcome the sudden gasp of awareness that had risen from her throat.

As Zuko started sucking a little bit, she hid the mewls rising in her throat—but suddenly he stopped.

Lifting his head from where he was bent, Zuko sat back up again and awkwardly looked at her, shifting his glance back down to her right breast every few seconds before raising his pupils back up to her head awkwardly.

"Uhm... Nothings happening," he said inadequately.

Normally, Katara would've been annoyed with the stupidity of the statement—of course nothing was coming out _yet_. But overcome with the sudden sensations that he had just wrought upon her, quietness somehow clouded her.

"You're supposed to suckle on them for a bit before it starts coming out," she instructed then patiently.

She lifted both her hands up to her left breast, which Zuko had not touched, and lifted the mound up higher by the bottom with her left hand as she brought her right hand to the areolas.

As Zuko watched her slowly start to kneeding her own breast and caressing the erect nipple, his erection grew hard and his eyes became entranced.

Before he knew it, a thin gush of white milk came out.

Katara stopped then stopped pulling. But he kept staring.

After an awkward moment, Zuko finally shook from the daze.

He turned back to Katara's and cleared his throat.

"Okay."

He bent his back once again over her upright torso and placed his mouth over the nipple. He tried to emulate the caressing motions she had performed with her fingers on her other nipple and swore he heard a sudden, light gasp from above him as he did so.

Before long, and a lot of kneading, he was suddenly faced with a spurt. Katara tensed underneath him as the milk began coming out under his attentive suckling, which grew fervent and enthusiastic not after long.

Finding the brushes of fluid against the back of his throat—as well as the taste of it—quite a pleasant, Zuko groaned sensually before suddenly grabbing the back of her waist in both of his hands and pulling them underneath him so that they both lay on the bed instead of sitting up on it.

He found the position preferential, his face buried within her breasts.

Katara looked down at the young man with his cheek lying between her two full breasts with his face turned to suckle on one.

His suckling enticed a certain type of insanely ridiculous _relief_ through her chest, and she watched him suckle on her skin as she brought her hand up to the mess of black hair on her chest and stroked his hair softly. Milk dribbled down his chin in a line as he earnestly sucked on her nipples, his eyes closed, to draw out the clear, white fluid and quench his throat.

The curious dropping sensation from her breast, coupled with the sudden tension in her abdomen and the strangely erotic feeling of his soft dark sprouts of hair sliding through her fingers, led her to bite her lip and pull her neck back up as a particular hard suck from his mouth led her to arch her back completely and shudder in pleasure.

Surprised at the sudden outburst in response to a hard suck, Zuko brought his head up and looked at her, his hair utterly mussed. But what he saw on her face made him feel as if his erection couldn't get any harder if possible, even if he tried.

Biting his lip and willing himself to calm down a bit, the taste of her breastmilk covering each and every inch of his inner mouth, he returned to her chest—her breathing now deep and heavy—to try his mouth on the other breast.

When he placed his mouth on it, Katara—now caught within a feeling she couldn't quite describe or name, but many would often call ecstasy—audibly moaned, which only encouraged Zuko to suck harder onto it, so coax out some more of those groans from her.

As he suckled on her newly, he brought up another hand to the breast left unattended and caressed it softly to pleasure her, making sure not to put too much pressure on the nipple

With his arms wrapped around her waist and her mouth on her breasts, his head hugged to her arched chest with her own arms, the two were dissolved in the newfound sensations of teenagers when—

"Fire Lord Zu—ko—"

Zuko lifted his heard from her chest suddenly, his arms circling her bared chest to protect her from the light falling in from the door, as he turned his head back to see who was at the door in sheer and growing fury.

Placing one arm over her breast and nipples, Zuko got up and made sure to hover to cover her breasts, before encouraging her body to a different direction from the men at the door.

He got up then, walking over the vast length of the throne-room sized stadium, his blood red robes billowing in fury. He stomped with his fists clenched and growing fury in his eyes.

Who would _dare_ disrupt the _Fire Lord_?

Not only was Zuko an expectably horny19-year old guy, he was also Fire Lord—with power and no privacy. This ultimately meant that the few moments he got to have to relieve himself of his hormonal needs—were moments he would murder if interrupted.

And much less walking into _his_ unclothed Katara, whom _he_ was lathering with kisses and sweet caresses. _Not_ them.

So it was the accumulation of all of those precedences that lead the furious Zuko over to the oblivious and dumb men over by the door, and punch them with his rounded fist.

The fact that an _unclothed _Katara was lying over his shoulder...

He swiftly shut the door in their faces and turned back.

It had made his blood boil.

He was Fire Lord Zuko. A horny 19 year old who was trying to get it in with his gorgeous girlfriend—with _beautiful tits— _even _if_ he was currently conducting an age-old ceremonial ritual.

No one had the right to stop him.

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><p><strong>AN: This might be a three/four-shot**

Review if you'd like to see more! ;)


	3. Third

**Chapter 3: Longing**

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><p>"Z-Zuko," Katara shuddered, her head thrown back as Zuko gently pushed his hips against hers and rocked back and forth on the bed with her.<p>

His fingers slowly slipped down surreptitiously to part the haphazardly thrown kimono on her skin. The ministers, one of which now sported a bruised left cheek, had quickly left once the nursemaid keeping watch outside of the chambers had furiously batted them away.

Zuko's eyes fluttered open and close in sheer pleasure as he slowly rocked against her, his face and head thrown into her neck. Agni, he was_ so_ hard right now.

The adrenaline rush from hitting his minister of foreign agricultural trade slowly diminished as he noticed Katara's slight tenseness, overcome by his sudden vigor.

He slowly loosened and slid further down her torso to place himself at a place he knew she would be more comfortable. He returned to her breasts and slowly nibbled and suckled fluid out of one, already red and swollen from his previous tendings to it.

At this, Katara gasped even louder, feeling something considerably embarrassing sprout beneath her undergarments.

Zuko suckled with newfound vigor as her heard her soft mewls, coaxing them from the crevices of her chest. The milk he weened from her breasts hit the back of his throat with great relief for both parties.

Soon, the sounds diminished into quiet solitude, the two engaging in an age old ritual of solidarity. The ecstasy fell out slowly and Zuko lifted his head from her chest, feeling her body visibly tire from his urgent and pressured ministrations.

He lifted his head from her breasts and pushed himself higher up on the mattress, feeling himself more awake than he had been allday after finally suckling his newlywed wife's breasts.

She, however, looked tired. Concerned and the slightest bit guilty, Zuko sat up and crossed his legs on the bed before lifting up the two sides of her inner kimono and draping them again over her chest closed to preserve her modesty.

"Thanks," Katara said appreciatively, blinking hard, as if to wake herself up.

Zuko, his prior vigor completely absolved, blushed and and looked off the side.

"I—Uh—Sorry," he got out.

Katara lifted a brow critically, staring up at his turned head from where she lay.

"It's not really your fault, if they told you to do this," she rationally contested. She didn't say what was actually hovering in her head: _It's not like I completely dis-enjoyed it either. Obviously._

"Well—I mean," Zuko started, turning his head over his shoulder to look over her body uncertainly, "Sorry if I hurt you or anything, while I, uh, did it."

Katara frowned, curiosity on her face. Seeing her look, Zuko continued on to explain.

"I, uh, had to fast for four days," Zuko admitted, "That was one of the rituals I had grown up knowing—that Fire Lords fast for four days prior to their coronation. But I didn't really realize why."

For just a moment, Katara gaped.

"So the first thing you've had to consume in four days is... Is..."

Zuko simply shrugged in response. "The sages don't take rituals lightly."

Katara continued to gape. She had intended to joke around about him vigorously pulling on her nipples, since she knew that she'd definitely be sore tomorrow, but then decided not to.

"Zuko, thats so unhealthy!" she mustered, still a bit baffled from shock. Zuko frowned.

"Well, the idea is for the body to be completely empty before—"

"Yeah, I got that," she said impatiently, rolling her eyes. She lifted herself up from the mattress to a sitting position and then began to sort through the many various layers of kimono pooled around her waist.

Sitting beside her on the mattress with his eyes averted from the flimsy inner-kimono draped over her chest, Zuko watched her hands sort through the many different layers on the mattress.

After a moment, he spoke, still staring down at the extravagant cloths pooled about her waist and the mattress. "After you're done, we need to go down to the banquet. I don't know if we took too long here, but usually, it only officially starts with the royal family enters, so I don't think we were on a time limit."

Katara smiled silently as she neatly folded and crossed the third layer over her chest.

"Boys. All they care about are their stomaches," she asserted absentmindedly, smiling. Zuko's brows twitched in irritation.

"Other than—you know—I haven't eaten anything for four days, Katara!"

Ignoring his protests, Katara finished the last knot on the last layer and lifted herself up from the mattress. Zuko's eyes followed her back indignantly before he, too, got up from the bed and walked around the headboard to rummage around the floor for his own clothes.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Katara go back towards the small room off to the side, presumably to either give him some privacy or wash up.

Zuko looked down and continued to button up the three layers remaining.

He watched Katara step back out as soon as he was almost finished and raked his eyes over her figure, now primly dressed.

Not completely trusting his voice to keep from embarassing him further, Zuko gestured off to the sidedoors with his head and Katara nodded.

What had transpired between them had not gone lost on Zuko—all he could think of now were her breasts—but Katara walked past him as if nothing had happened. Zuko looked down at his kimono and frowned, as if the intensity of his glare could calm his body's excitement and those inexorable urges so that he could keep calm and focused throughout the remaining course of proceedings.

The fact that he had fasted for four days really didn't help his plight for focus.

Katara pushed the double doors open, Zuko behind her, and was just about to look over her shoulder and ask him which way the banquet hall was, when she was suddenly surrounded by a throng of maidens. At the head was none other than Mai.

"M-Mai!" Zuko exclaimed in surprise and equal embarrassment.

The older woman behind her were all staring at the royal couple with poorly restrained shock. Undoubtedly, they knew what had transpired in the room, as they were the ones held to guard the ritual, but the visage of them walking out so haphazardly was probably a bit shocking, as the older women looked terribly scandalized.

Zuko noted Mai's unwavering apathy with embarrassment.

However neatly Katara had redressed herself, Zuko could tell that it wasn't perfect and not nearly up to the standards of her maidens.

Mai, of course, was the Fire Lady's first hand. Considering she had been bred and groomed to become the Fire Lady, who else but she would know the duties of the Fire Lady? The situation was rather awkward, but Katara had insisted that she didn't mind.

With indignant haste, eight or nine maidens promptly grabbed Katara by the arms and set to carry her off. Surprised but helpless, Katara shot Zuko an apologetic look which he returned with worry, as he was suddenly left alone in the massive hallway.

With a sigh, Zuko turned and faced Mai, exasperation aging him greatly.

"What do I do now?" he grunted out, irritation winning over any level of politeness he would've had the foresight to utilize with her. Mai yawned obnoxiously and Zuko wagered that she was enjoying the ridiculous circumstance he and Katara were currently in.

"Well, I'm off to dress your wife," she said, before glancing at his clothing, "You seem to have figured out what to wear," she scrutinized him once more before finally saying, "Go back and find your crown. Katara will meet you at the right wing staircase before you enter the hall."

Mai quickly turned around and left Zuko in the hall by himself. Zuko blew up as he turned and walked back to the room, the bangs lifting from his forehead.

Mai was definitely efficient, he decided, for Katara arrived at the head of the staircase—dressed properly and with freshly applied makeup—just moments after he had left his room after tying his hair back up into a royal topknot.

Zuko glanced off to the side and noticed that her maidens had made her remove two outer-layers—to signify the completion of both the ceremonial union in the morning, and the breastfeeding ritual in the afternoon—and retied her robes with a new belt.

The full costume they had worn at the ceremony at dawn featured heavy red carpet. Zuko had shed the gray layer he wore directly beneath it after having masturbated at the alter. Though he hadn't paid attention to the order and significance of Katara's attire, the layer she was wearing right now matched his own—pearl white and shimmering with beads.

As stunning as she looked, Zuko noted that her face had nothing more than irritation written on it. Quickly pushed down the steps by the handmaidens behind them, he hadn't the chance to ask why, but as soon as they sat before their table, the same irritation marked his own.

Quietly, Zuko placed his forehead into his palm and groaned. Katara looked over at him and he simply shook his head in disappointment.

"They're making me eat a dish from each of the provinces," he explained with some sadness.

"Oh." Katara replied, not understanding his lament, but waiting for further elaboration.

"I fasted for four days... and now I can't even eat the foods I want to?" he asked in utter mortification. He had just realized that this was yet another part of the ritual. Either Zuko's advisors had done an extremely poor job of explaining things to him, or he had zoned out during the entire lecture.

Katara covered her mouth and giggled.

Symbolically, it was very exact, she decided. The Fire Lord had to fast for four days and release his semen before finally drinking the breastmilk of the newly crowned Fire Lady. After drinking the Fire Lady's breastmilk, he ate a meal from each of the provinces.

"So what happens next," she asked, curious.

This was nicest ritual, she though, as no one was speaking to the two. Apparently, as the banquet was known to be another ritual, the Fire Lord and Lady were completely separated from their audience.

Zuko's face immediately turned red at her question. He may not have remembered this part about the food, but he definitely did remember the rest. It was probably better to explain things to her sooner rather than later, he uncommitedly decided, swallowing a mango-dipped miniature sparrowkeet that supposedly came from the Huanshing Province.

After cleaning the body through fasting and ejaculation, the Fire Lord drank breast-milk of the Fire Lady and the traditional dishes from each of the Fire Provinces.

This cleansing ritual was necessary because the breastmilk and spices were eventually supposed to find itself in his ejaculation fluid.

Which the Fire Lady was then supposed to consume.

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><p><strong>AN: On a scale of 1-10 how excited are you guys for the last line? ;) Review for more updates!**


	4. Fourth

**Chapter Four: The Fourth**

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><p>"Awww, they're so cute!" Suki exclaimed, leaning over Sokka to point at the raised table on the dais where Katara and Zuko were sitting solitarily in front of a large table of dishes.<p>

Zuko leaned close into Katara to say something in her ear. Their close proximity allowed Suki to smile—she was confident that her friends were a match made in heaven and would be happy in the future.

Beside her, Sokka grumbled unintelligably, muttering incoherently as he shoveled food into him mouth with a frown. He refused to look up at the dais—refused to acknowledge the fact the Zuko, _Zuko_, had taken his sister! How could his father have agreed to this?

"Oh, shut up Sokka," Sukia commanded, suddenly slapping his upper arm. He catapulted forward into his place.

"OW, SUKI!"

Zuko excused himself from the table after telling Katara he'd be right back.

Shoulders suddenly tense, he turned from the table to the managerie of sages set up behind him like a chorus. Stiffly, he garnered the attention of the one he was most familiar with among all the others and pulled the man over the side, hiding them both behind the curtains that were off the side of the ritual stage.

"Look—I did what I was told to," he said to the Wu Tan. "The second and third rituals."

Wu Tan nodded in approval, his arms folded within his sleeves and eyes closed apathetically.

"But," Zuko began tensely, "I don't think I can do the next one."

"Why Fire Lord Zuko?" the aged man asked of him. Zuko despised all the Fire Sages, but at least Wu Tan was one of the ones who were more patient with him.

"Be—because," Zuko stuttered, his jaw set but words hesitant, "She—she's not ready." Zuko paused for a moment and then spoke once again. "_I'm_ not ready."

Wu Tan opened his eyes and stared thoughtfully at the young Fire Lord in front of him. Zuko was clothed in a light, silvery tunic and looking very uncomfortable. Wu Tan frowned. Surely, he understood his predicament, Zuko thought. He _knew_ Wu Tan understood him.

Yet, the old man sighed, his shoulders dropping.

"You must, Fire Lord Zuko."

The teenager shuffled awkwardly in front of the man, looking decidedly conflicted. Zuko dropped his voice and leaned in closer to him.

"Look—I—I can't do that to her," he whispered in desperation. He was fidgeting in nervousness. "She—she hasn't even—I don't think she knows..."

The truth of the matter was that Zuko suspected Katara was beyond totally inexperienced. Way, too, beyond inexperienced for this to happen _tonight_. They were both tired after the entire day and he, himself, was also too inexperienced to make sex an enjoyable experience for her. It would be terrible for her, he had suddenly concluded at their table. That would make it equally as terrible for him. Today was just not the day, he had concluded.

Obviously, he wouldn't last more than 30 seconds. Obviously, it would be terribly uncomfortable for her.

And all this would be exacerbated by the fact that there would be so much _pressure_ on them. It would be cruel to take a girl's virginity away on the basis of a ritual. Fire Ladies in the past had not always been virgins, but the occasion was much different as the wedding initiated her as the Fire Lady. In the past, the crown prince received the throne after having already married. In the past, the Fire Lady only became so after the prince's mother or aunt passed.

Wu Tan sighed. He understood, but there was nothing to look past right now.

He put wrinkled fingers on top Zuko's shoulder before shaking his head sadly.

"You must, Fire Lord Zuko. It is a 1,000 year old tradition. She cannot claim her throne otherwise. You will be barred from yours if you do not participate in this ritual."

For a moment, Zuko's anger flared. How dare they force him to do this to the girl he was in love with? Had spent _so_ long courting, hesitantly approaching Katara. And suddenly they're making him have _sex_ with her? But before he knew it, the Fire Sage had walked away and he was left alone in the side corridor of the hall.

With a deep sigh tinged with ardent longing, he turned himself and walked back in the direction of the table at which Katara was seated.

If he had to do it, he would have to make it as easy for her as possible.

* * *

><p>In the chambers, Katara felt her cheeks grow ruddier than ever, heat flooding into her, assaulting her senses in the most pleasurable way she had previously never felt or imagined.<p>

Zuko's hot breath, coupled with the intensified heat of his body temperature, fanned across her skin.

He leaned forward, so that his hard form pressed fully against her softer one. Her heart leapt when she felt the hard bulge of manhood pressing against her thigh. He was naked.

When he pulled her against him and his arms wrapped protectively around her waist, a frisson of fiery sensation sparked from the surface of his skin to her own virgin flesh. When he trailed his fingers over the arch of her back in a slow caress, Katara's senses skittered once again. Then, he whispered in her ear, "Just relax," before moving slightly and wedging his knee between her thighs.

He had been hesitant about doing this before. But, he decided, if he could make her accustomed to the idea, perhaps it wouldn't be so terrible for her.

A flaring arc of awareness suddenly shot through her. She didn't know how Zuko was doing it. The sensation was scaring her. She shut her eyes, her fingers curling slowly into fists as she struggled to breathe evenly, but could feel moisture gathering in her most secret feminine place.

He moved again, purposefullly, pressing the sinewed flesh of his thigh slowly against her in a rhythmic fashion; his own breathing growing damp. Katara's breath fled at the primitive sensations he suddenly aroused in her, and a shuddered breath escaped her lips. He seemed to revel in the sound, for he pressed her closer to him. Subconsciously, she rose her hands to grip his shoulders.

He interpreted this as an invitation to proceed; a hesitant smile formed on Zuko's lips. Relief. His hands slid to grip beneath her buttocks, and he lifted her onto his thigh. Releasing his initial doubts, he ventured to hope that perhaps he_could _be successful with this.

His movement alone had more than enough impact to send sharp and riveting semblances of pleasure in her already damp, secret folds. The warm moisture Zuko felt on his skin from her made him struggle to stay in control. He kept in mind that she was still new to all this and that the coming situation would probably be most impacting for her.

Katara made a final murmur of protest, as if she was trying to escape the effects of his spell, but he pulled her body totally flush to his, pressing her voluminous breasts against the plane of his chest. Settling his hands at her hips, Zuko began to undulate her slowly against him.

"Move against me," he instructed, showing her how.

Katara squeezed her sea blue orbs shut and instantly obeyed. His voice had something commanding in it right now. Almost instantly, uncontrollable desire flared through her body, tightening her sensitive breasts and kindling a fierce ache between her own abdomen and his own. In a helpless gesture, she wound her arms around his neck and moved her pelvis against him, gently guided by him, with heavy need. Sheer instinct swept away her inexperience, driving her.

Zuko nurtured her excitement, rocking her, arousing her, rubbing her swollen and wet clitoris against his muscled thigh until her skin burned with fever.

The speed of her breath turned frantic and desperate—loud. Her hips bucked, but he held her in place mercilessly, letting her twist and strain against him. Up until now, Katara was unable to suppress the moans threatening to rip from her throat. The pleasure built unbearably; the heat became excruciating. Was this how a firebender felt each day? Now her breaths came in ragged gasps, she dug her fingernails into his shoulders as intense pulsations began in the depths of her core.

However, she was still shocked by the explosion that wracked her body. The hot burst of sensation made her jolt and arch in his arms, while her low moan became a gentle, helpless cry.

"Shhh," Zuko murmured gently, covering her lips consolingly with his own.

He may not have had the most hands-on experience with girls in the world, but he was still a 19-year-old; he did indeed know what it felt like to go through an amazing orgasm, even if by his own hands.

Her whole body coiled around him, spasming with the wrenching pleasure, her thighs desperately clenching around his, her breasts so utterly sensitive against his chest, all her senses burst as searing brightness enveloped her mind and body. Awareness shattered her.

As the unbounding sensation fled gradually, Katara sagged against him, burying her hot face in his shoulder in near embarrassment. Her insides turned into mush as she felt Zuko's lips pressing against her hair, attempting to calm her trembling. Zuko's ability to make her feel different sensations, both in and out at the same time, was amazing.

After a while of simply holding her against the wall, he withdrew slightly to gaze into her eyes, assessing her before moving forward.

Noticing she was still a bit speechless, he set her onto her feet, careful to support her due to her trembling legs. Bending his head, Zuko cautiously feathered kisses along her jaw and lower, along the column of her neck. His warm lips sent a sweep of sensation surging over her skin. He had never done this before with her, but he was cautiously stepping forward with the affection and hoped she wouldn't find it sudden or contrived.

His tongue caressed the jumping pulse in the hollow of her throat, while his fingertips rose to her abdomen and skimmed the underside of her full breasts. Unable to resist her, his hands cupped the swells, the coaxing of his thumbs causing the sensitive tips to engorge painfully under the teasing touch. Not long after, his mouth took part in the nurturing, grazing her breasts with arousing caresses.

There it was again. The urgent longing. It gathered in the deepest pit of her stomach, forming in her loins. When his lips closed over one peaked nipple, shuddering heat infiltrated her veins. Katara arched against him, shutting her eyes at the glorious spasm shooting down to her loins. Flaming desire churned inside her, awakening a wonderful aching weakness that pulsed in her nether parts.

Still suckling her nipple, Zuko reached down, his hand brushing to find the sweet warmth of moisture between her thighs. He touched the wet cleft, his thumb gliding over the folds of soft flesh, parting them, stroking rhythmically.

Again, Katara gasped aloud.

Her eager response brought Zuko to take her mouth again, his kiss turning hot and hungry. She was trembling again, and became forgetful of how to breathe as her skin burned.

When he slipped a knowing finger into her, the moan of pleasure coming from her was hoarse and raw.

Zuko's jaw clenched, feeling her inner walls contract tightly around his probing finger. He pulled in a deep breath, shuddering in his restraint. The reins he had over his primal desires were becoming undone, so he paused, withdrew. But her trembling movements continued to affect him heavily, to the point of no return. Unable to control himself any longer, he lifted her and brought her over to the bed. Laying her down, he pulled her body quickly and roughly to his erection.

He was bracing her, lifting her up and pulling her legs around his hips while his kiss slanted down fiercely over her mouth again, devouring her sweetness. He lifted himself up and waited a moment before speaking.

"Katara... Do you know what sex is?" he asked suddenly. She could feel his wet lips right beside her ear. Her face reddened and she snapped out of her induced state to place both her palms on his chest and indignantly reply.

"Of course!" she exclaimed. Not only was she already 18, she was a healer!

"No, I mean.. It's a lot of... thrusting," he explained slowly, his body poised over hers.

If possible, Katara felt her face heat up even more. She knew that, too, but of course, Zuko didn't say anything.

He lifted his head from beside her ear. His hair fell forward between them as surveyed how close their naked sexes were to touching. He leaned back up to her and placed his lips against her throat before suddenly thrusting his tongue into her mouth, plunging, just as his flesh would.

The bulge of his erection throbbed against the soft yielding of her mound. He brought his hand down and slowly rubbed the head of his penis inside her labia, allowing her to _feel _him, before suddenly bringing it back up to her mound. Slowly and gently, he thrust against her without entering her.

As his lips lathered her neck with sweeping kisses, Zuko began to move steadily, humping her on the silk sheets. His eyes closed and mouth fell open above her in the muted pleasure the friction gave him. Katara's heart pounded as he came to move against her harshly, the feel of a naked erection pushing and pressing against her naked vulva, a shadow of thrusts. The throbbing maleness of Zuko's pulsating flesh fell onto her.

Eyes shut tightly, he bit his lip tightly as the excruciating pleasure soon became unbearable. His fists tightened from where they held him up above her. He wanted to thrust _within _her, but knew it was better to let her be accustomed to the size of him first, his action and movement. What _was _thrusting.

Zuko managed to muster his strength, to regain some control. He leaned back down again to place his lips against hers before he spoke, "I'm going to enter now," he said with a thick voice. He waited for some type of acknowledgement from her, but his impatience was grating on now. He _needed _her to be ready now, even if she wasn't.

Katara wordlessly nodded.

Despite her fear, she terribly needed him to appease the relentless, suddenly yearning ache inside her. She needed him deep inside her, even though she didn't quite know what that was yet. Giving herself up to the bliss his sensual assault promised, she shut her eyes tight. In spite of her feelings, Katara whimpered when Zuko began to ease the silken head of his shaft into her seeping flesh. He let out a shallow breath.

Frenzied need surged through him; it was the need to plunge himself deep inside his newly-wed wife, to feel her wet heat close around him. His mouth now plundering hers to distract her from the pain, he slowly lowered his engorged length unto her.

Katara gasped at his penetration, gentle tears rolling down her cheeks as she felt her membrane of virginity tear. She was panting softly, while her body strove to accept the fullness of him.

Zuko struggled to keep himself at bay, giving her time to adjust while he kissed away her tears. The sweetness of her deliciously curvy body was driving him to madness, but somehow he had to find the strength to master himself before he lost all control. He looked at her, as pain contorted her beautiful features, the wedding make-up applied. "...Do you need me to stop, Katara?"

At the latter question, her eyes snapped open. "No! Its Okay! Just... Just... _thrust." _After her last words, Zuko swallowed thickly and stared at her for a long moment. Her tightening grip upon his shoulders didn't help him any in his plight for restraint, much less the words coming from her throat.

He began to move at a slow pace at first, but it quickly became urgent.

She lost herself to the surging tempo of his body as he thrust into her with the fierce savagery of any teenage male. When he peaked, all sanity fled. He leaked into her, shaking from the force of orgasm, clutching one of her breasts tightly.

Zuko turned his head tiredly to look at her and paused for a moment, staring at her. He had warned her beforehand that it would probably be quick for him, and she had willingly accepted that. Tired and heaving as he pulled out and then fell beside her on the bed, Katara turned and gave Zuko a smile.

The two exchanged looks, enjoying the post-coital glow, before he spoke. "I don't think I've ever told you this before... but I love you, Katara."

He brought his arm forward to catch her waist and pulled her down to bring her to his chest.

Katara smiled against him, his arms around her in an embrace, but distinctly felt sudden soreness washing over her southern regions. Zuko placed a hard kiss on the top of her hair before loosening the embrace a bit to look down at her.

"Are you okay?" he whispered, shamefully feeling his bare penis hardening once again at their close proximity.

"I'm fine, Zuko," she replied with a smile. She pushed his chest and moved out of the embrace so that she could lie down properly, her head resting on his forearm.

"You're _sure?" _Zuko worriedly asked again, his brows furrowing and a frown forming on his face. He sat up and looked at her.

Katara laughed and removed her head from his arm, leaning over the mattress to retrieve her discarded clothing.

Eyes heavily lidded, Zuko watched the curve of her back and the profile of her breasts as she leaned over. He quickly looked away to the other side of and brought his fist up to his mouth, clearing his throat and begging his hormones to settle down.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This is the last chapter. If you guys want a sequel about what happens after, I might make one, but only if there is a TON of demand for it. :)**

**Sincerely,**

**forever2yours.  
><strong>


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